Work in the Dakota Group 9 



reaching the gate, discovered my escaping quarry 

 already halfway across the section. I got just near 

 enough to put a bullet into his rump as he passed 

 through the fence on the other side, and disappeared 

 in the dense woods beyond. 



In my excitement I shouted to my pony, and, dis- 

 mounting and standing on the wire to hold it down, 

 yelled at him to come across. But a sudden fit of 

 obstinacy had seized him, and he would not come. 

 I had to let the fence up while I thrashed him, and 

 then as soon as I got it under my feet again, he 

 pulled back as before. We repeated this perform- 

 ance until I was exhausted and gave up the struggle. 



But upon casting a look of despair in the direc- 

 tion of the vanished buffalo, I was both astonished 

 and ashamed to see him standing under an elm tree 

 not ten feet away, covered up all except his eyes 

 by a great wild grapevine, and gazing in mute 

 astonishment at the struggle between Nimrod and 

 his pony. I have always regretted that I took ad- 

 vantage of the confidence he placed in me, for as 

 soon as I could control my jumping nerves, I shot 

 the noble beast behind the shoulder, and he fell. 



I saw my last herd of buffalo in Scott County, 

 Kansas, in 1877. Antelope, however, continued to- 

 be abundant as late as 1884, and only two years ago 

 I saw a couple of them among some cattle near 

 Monument Rocks, in Gove County. 



